


Baahubali - Tumblr Prompts

by thelonewolfwrites



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Romantic Fluff, floofy fluff, one shots, prompts, tumblr asks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22584376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonewolfwrites/pseuds/thelonewolfwrites
Summary: My response to the baahubali tumblr prompts that pop up in my ask box. An amalgam of one-shots. Enjoy.
Relationships: Amarendra Baahubali & Bhallaladeva, Amarendra Baahubali & Kattappa, Amarendra Baahubali/Devasena, Amarendra Baahubali/Sivagami, Bhallaladeva (Baahubali)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 15





	1. Mantravidhya

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CarminaVulcana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarminaVulcana/gifts), [arpita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arpita/gifts), [Inkn1ght1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkn1ght1/gifts), [MayavanavihariniHarini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayavanavihariniHarini/gifts), [spiffycups](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffycups/gifts), [Ratna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratna/gifts), [The_Dark_Enchantress_Ruhi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Dark_Enchantress_Ruhi/gifts), [Allegories In Media Res (AllegoriesInMediasRes)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegoriesInMediasRes/gifts).



> These fics are in response to @carminavulcana's prompts posted on tumblr.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fluff - Devasena wants to do something special for Baahu considering how much stress he’s been in. When he comes back one day after a day of being sidelined even though he is the commander of the army, Devasena gives him some TLC. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a response to @carminavulcana's prompt posted on tumblr.

Baahu’s hawk eyes hovered over the boys’ every move. Their training entailed archery and hand to hand combat today and he wanted to oversee their progress. He liked to be a part of the training crew every now and then to see how the soldiers fared under his leadership.

Although Kattappa doesn’t hesitate to lend a helping hand, he stuck around for the most part of the day, training with some of the younger members of the army.

The scene before him was familiar, reminding him of the training period with Bhalla when they were kids. An amalgam of archery, sword fighting, knife and spear throwing, mace wielding, hand-to-hand combat and staff fencing unfolded in his presence, he was supposedly in his element.

Jairam - Kattappa’s second-in-command - ensured the young princes learnt the use of a _silambam_ stick just as they acquainted with wielding swords and arrows. It was pivotal for a soldier to know how to defend himself with anything that was available and can be turned into a weapon.

Bhalla went for the mace as always. He was taller and stronger than the boys of his age, it gave him vantage over the other boys. His muscular frame aided him to wield the weapon as a second limb. A sword or even a bow and arrow did not suffice in his eyes.

The older prince did not dwell in mediocrity. He excelled proficiently in ploughing every kind of weapon. Just that the mace was a tad closer to his heart than the rest of the weaponry.

Baahu always teased him over how he slept with it as a child. His father had crafted a custom-made mace with a chained extension for him. It could aim for the furthest objects and land a solid blow, shattering the target to smithereens without a glance of mercy.

_A one-of-a-kind weapon for his precious boy._

Those were the good old days when Baahu and Bhalla were inseparable, adhesives.

He felt useless now, being the Royal Commander-in-Chief of the Mahishmati army didn’t entail much these days. At least not until war comes their way and the Gods forbid such an ill fate to befall his motherland just so he can keep his hands busy.

He preferred to go undercover, sometimes, scouring the streets and marketplace, defending the needy when required.

Covertly, he compromised the loose rats and thieves. None of them stood a chance against him, not when he was in stealth mode.

No one knew the Commander’s craft, save for Kattappa. He didn’t cave under the threat of futility back at the palace. His _mama_ knew that he was more than qualified to oversee the soldiers’ performance. Even the boys from the _gurukulam_ who trained under his watchful eyes knew it, as did Bhalla. But they strived to strike a balance, nonetheless.

Ever since the coronation of Bhallaladeva _Chakravarthi_ , he expected to be happy for him and wished him a long and blessed reign.

_Did it come from the pit of his still-beating heart, though?_

Deep down, he knew something was amiss. Something brutally barbaric stirred in the belly of the serpent and he knew not where.

_He felt it in his bones and his heart gave away to the tremors._

—

Severed from the Royal Family, he was no longer permitted in Rajmata’s chambers as he used to be. He was required to have an official cause to see his mother! The unfairness of the scenario percolated through his calm exterior as he soaked it with due diligence. But his insides churned with a fulgent ire.

_May the sands of time be kind to the man assumed to be akin to a God himself._

It drained him, both emotionally and physically. The family he claimed to love all his life, whom he thought were on his side, threatened to pull the rug from beneath him.

_All was lost to a cruel game destiny implanted in his life._

No one spoke to him with kind eyes or a syllable of love. A whiplash of horrors was unleashed upon him. This feeling was akin to terror - to be unwanted and undesirable. He didn’t know it would suck him dry.

_The God complex had gotten to him._

He was gutted that his _Amma_ did not seek him out anymore. Those gashes were the deepest, her icy glances and smoking breath as she reeked of lava and poison. Baahu did not recognize this woman. He didn’t know what fueled her hatred.

He had buckled under her loving side for far too long to be unaware of her disdain which hurt him just as much.

_A vice clawed at his ventricles._

Alas, the magnanimous title - **Amarendra Baahubali** \- had defeated him in a clean swipe. Devasena and his unborn child were his only solace, the beacon through the onyx shadows - his last resort.

He vowed to put them first, now and always. His only family? A gutted voice reverberated through the empty chambers of his soul.

After a final delegation of the nightly duties to the posted guards, he circled back to his chamber, a few hours after sundown.

He found his way back to her and a solemn smile crept onto his lips. Cheerily, he headed into their chambers - his little home. He could finally rub her swollen belly and tell his unborn child tales of the Moon God - _Indra_ , like _Amma_ did when he was a wee baby.

He was beaten and his body ached for the softness of his feathery bed. Grimy from head to toe, he stank a little and vied for a warm bath after getting a threatening whiff of his body.

Devasena was letting out light snores when he sneaked in. She had fallen asleep waiting for him with a dimly lit lamp. Not wanting to awaken the very pregnant outline of his wife, he moused to his wardrobe, stripping his armour and soiled clothing as he searched for a tunic.

Deva stirred in the feeble light and stared at her husband’s bareback. She had missed him terribly today.

“Baahu, when did you get in?”

With a grin playing on his succulent lips, he turned around to face her.

“Bangaram, I thought you were asleep. Did I wake you up? ” His eyebrows furrowed.

“No. I was waiting for you to get back and I fell asleep. Now, come here, my love. How was your day? ” She motioned for him to join her on the bed as she tried to sit up. He was beside her in a flash, helping her.

“Nothing productive, the same old training exercises, monitoring the boys. You know, the usual stuff. ” Baahu didn’t want to worry her by informing her of his vivacious vigilantism.

“Well, you do look stressed, sweetheart. Is there something you want to tell me? ” She cast a piercing gaze his way. He was a fool to assume that he could hide anything from her. She could get a whiff of whatever was going on with him in under a minute.

How could he tell his wife that he was reduced to the likes of a class monitor at the _gurukulam_?

“Nothing, my love. I’m just really tired. It’s been a long day. I was hoping to pop in the bath, actually. ”

His defeated shoulders told her a different story.

“Why don’t you bring me the sesame oil bottle from the dresser top? ” She motioned to the oak wood surface.

“Do you want me to rub it on your feet, Deva? ” His tone was humdrum, reflecting the unproductiveness of the day. She wanted the frown lines on his face to disappear. A passionate lovemaking session would be just the thing to distract him so she got a solid reaction from him.  
Instead, she lifted his face with both her hands and placed a lingering kiss on his lips. He sank into her palms, surrendering to her touch. She broke off contact and he chased after her lips like a little pup.

Chuckling, Deva shoved him onto the floor beside the bed. She took a few drops of the oil in her palm and began to massage his scalp. His rigid shoulders relaxed and he dipped back on her lap, fluidly.

“Stop thinking, my love. Just concentrate on my fingers, okay? ”

“You don’t have to ask me twice. ” He chortled deeply. “I’m enjoying this far too much. A head massage from the _Kuntalan_ Crown Princess herself! It must be my lucky day. ”

The minute Devasena’s fingertips rubbed on his scalp he eased into a far happier place. Thoroughly appreciating her massage with provocative ‘mms’ and 'aahs’. She was content to see this form of him, manifesting itself as he hadn’t been himself lately and it troubled her.

He turned around and buried his head into her lap, breathing in her feminine scent which calmed his nerves and provided a clear head. Rubbing soothing circles on her belly, he felt safe and loved. He placed butterfly kisses on the exposed part of her swelling, making her a little ticklish.

By now, several minutes passed and he was settled in that position. Soon, he let out light snores and she giggled in response.

Gingerly, she roused him and watched his head drop into her lap again.

_He looked like a tired little wolf pup!_

She didn’t have the heart to wake him up.

“Baby, you need to wake up and take a bath. You’re reeking like the dogs, my love. ” She wrinkled her nose comically.

A vat of hot water stood in the washing chamber over a bed of amber coals. Baahu poured the water into the bathtub by himself instead of summoning the help. His skin sang and he groaned in relief as he sank into the scalding pool.

Every inch of him was soaking in the liquid lava and he thought he’d fall asleep right here in the bathtub.

—


	2. Of Scars and Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Angst - Baahubali’s premonition about his death leads to thoughts about his brother. How did Bhalla go from being his best friend and partner-in-pranks to being the man who will make his wife a widow and his son an orphan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is in response to @carminavulcana's prompt on tumblr.

Baahu’s forehead creased with a frown exserted over his face. Ever since the acerbic incident during the _seemantham_ at the palace, he had an unsettling feeling erupting at the pit of his stomach.

 _Rajmata_ had made it evident with her arched eyebrows that she had cut off her motherly affections for him and recrudesce high walls around her cold heart. She won’t budge anytime soon and that did not stop him from coaxing her to say one word of comfort to the six-foot, saggy-shouldered Commander. He trotted behind her like a thrust out the pup and howled for a sign of love but to no avail.

The other bereft soul that benefited from this erratic behaviour of Rajmata was the King himself, who was determined to take everything from his baby brother’s clutches. The crown was successfully made his, by Sivagami’s public lash out and he puppeteered a scenario where the post of Commander-in-Chief slithered away from Baahu’s hands.

Not that he feared a word of the Gods about good _karma_ , and reaping the benefits of his good deeds. His acrid feelings for the younger prince outweighed any love he had for him.

As peels stripped from an orange, he could tell anything to Baahu without being judged. Instead, he chose to let the poison of Bijjala sink in and the game plan was set in motion.

Did he want Baahu dead - _YES_? In his core, the love for his cousin ricocheted yet he chose to bury them deep this time.

This time, he will succeed in eliminating the great **Amarendra Baahubali.**

—

Something terrible was to befall his family, they would suffer a great loss but he couldn’t quite place a finger on it. He had to make amends and keep his family safe. Deep down, he knew the palace wasn’t safe anymore.

The lingering faces of disappointment and rage fleeted across the members of the family who once gave him unconditional love, or so he thought. Bijjala hated him with his core, he knew that.

Bhalla was always weird about his feelings for him but he overlooked it out of unhampered love for his older brother.

In his gut, he knew that an abominable fate stared at him yet his hands were tied. He didn’t know how and he sure as hell didn’t predict that his _Amma_ will be involved in his untimely demise.

The one he worshipped above _parameshwara_ himself.

She had failed him many times and yet his faith in her remained unwavering. He truly believed that she would come to her senses and rekindle his love for him. The ice in her heart and soul wasn’t melting anytime soon.

He will not give up, not on his mother of all people. The Queen Regent’s guard was a tight-knit group and even Lalitha, the leader wouldn’t bat an eye in his direction. The older woman who had sneaked him out to get sweet treats from the Royal kitchens asserted a distant and hazy look at him.

It’s like he didn’t even exist.

Nothing but an outcast out now. 

_Am I nothing without a title beneath this wretched, majestic spates of concrete?_

Danger approached him from all directions. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to run far away from Mahishmati. His ego did not give in. He was born here and so will his son. 

Determined to stand his ground, Baahu inherently knew the end was near for him.

—

Stealing raw mangoes without the knowledge of the gardener was a strenuous task Bhalla dealt with. He was taller and swifter than lightning. Not that the princes needed the permission of the Gardner to pick any fruit of their choice but they were big on stealth missions. Later, they would soil their sleeves with the spoils of the theft.

It was one of the very many incidents that made Baahu smile whenever he scouted the gardens, reminding him of the sheer innocence of the act.

How did they go from mango robbers to sworn enemies? Baahu was no fool, he knows a concealed scowl when he sees one. He knew the venomous stares Bhalla and his father cast in his direction but he knew not why!

—

Bhallaladeva was the goddamned King of Mahishmati! He got his wish fulfilled and yet an obscenely gawking hole stood amidst his chest. Nothing he did or said could fill that.

_Love? Sure. **What is love, anyway?** What could possibly make me happier than to be nestled in a virgin’s thighs? That compares to the joy of gutting an enemy in the battlefield as his scarlet drippings crown the sands of Mahishmati?_

_**What in the seven hells is love anyway?** _

_The cold breeze caressing my skin as I ride my weaponized chariot, the spoils of war rotting beneath my feet, my face painted crimson with the splashes of the enemies I defeat or the succulent nectar sucked straight from the amber skin of a mango?_

_**What the fuck is love?** _

_No one has loved me, no one…not even my father. And I cannot begin to describe the hatred for the one who birthed me…_

_The subtle dimples in his cheeks when he laughs his throaty laugh. His soft curls sticking to his skin after a sparring session. The relentless laughter when he is around my mother, MY MOTHER - THE WOMAN WHOSE INVERTED CHALICE LINE I RIPPED OUT! The way his eyes light up when he knew he was to be a father. Devasena lusting after that worthless pile of cow dung, as a sun descended, like a moon coveted?! When the people look to him like a God gracing earth like he is the only one that matters - their saviour._

_**THAT IS LOVE.** _

_The love I will never have or cherish in my life, ever._

_And that is why you need to die, **Baahubali** , for taking away everything that belonged to me. For being worthy of their love by casting a shadow of doom over me. Stripping me of what I’m owed as a birthright, that’s right, you will pay in blood._

_Well, I choose me. Over you, that pathetic wench from Kuntala and your despicable unborn who thrives in her wretched belly._

_I will choose me. Always._

—


	3. Threads of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A three sentence fic response to the prompt 'Threads of Gold' (For Bhadra's mother/Bhalla's wife) - A tiny moment from the wedding scene of Bhalla and Bhadra's mother, it amasses the feeling of impending doom upon the woman's life as she pledges matrimony to the Mad King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Three sentence fic: Baahubali, Bhalla’s wife/Bhadra’s mother, threads of gold 
> 
> I received this prompt last year and fumbled with this idea for a very long time. So here is the final product, a three sentence fic for my gal - Ally (@allegoriesinmediasres).

_Banti_ petals flummoxed my sudor coated brows and neck as a boisterous pastiche of laughter, _nādaswaram_ and _mridangam_ erupted in the pavilion, furtively, I glanced at the looming mountain and his golden chiseled shoulders - arms ensnaring my tiny frame - the pads of his fingers stroking the nape of my neck. 

The gilded discs of the _Mangala Sūtra_ had his lion signets on them - branding me as his property - as they struggled to reconcile on the fabric of my carmine and ivory sari.

Wisps of the first two knots were empaled with chaos - **_manasa_** , **_vacha_** , _an oath of commitment and happiness of my future_ \- and as he tied the third knot - **_karmena_** , _the rhythm of ruination chimed_ , epitomizing my marital union with the **_Demon_** King - sealing my fate in this _jēvitha kālam._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment down here! Would love to know what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> Mantravidhya means witchcraft in Telugu.


End file.
